How Green Becomes Wood

"It is well made," Dark said, wondering how often tonight he would have to give in to flattery, "I would be glad to give you my tailor's name. He does good work, which I am grateful for, as I do not do well buying off-the-rack."

He then sat back and watched in mild amusement at the back and forth between Ciara and this man who he assumed was her boss, and finally spoke up again to say, "I am sure your signature did much, it is a beautiful event."
 
Thompson looked pleased at that comment, and he waved his fake cigar magnanimously. "Quite right! Your date is quite the man, Cunningham. I would stay and chat more, but I've been informed about a rule as to how much time your boss is allowed to take up on any given event. You two have a great evening! Cunningham. Mr. Dark." He tipped his hat and swept away into the crowd to go harass other members of his staff.
 
"He loves to see a plan come together," Ciara said dryly. "And events like this are often used to relax and unwind somewhat."

They made it a few more steps in before a young woman in a gold beaded dress came shimmying over. "Ciara! Hi! It's so good to see you! I wasn't sure if you'd make it," she greeted them, beaming excitedly. She looked up at Dark and did her best attempt at a stereotypical 20's accent (which was not particularly good), "And who's this gorgeous hunk of a man?"

"Maddison, hello," Ciara greeted her.

"Oh, come on, Ciara! We're out of the office. You can just call me Kimberly," she giggled, the beads on her flapper cap dancing around her face.

"Indeed we are," Ciara agreed neutrally.

"So? Who's your beau?" Kimberly demanded, looking up at Dark again.

"Ghalib Dark," Ciara said, and that was all she got before Kimblerly burst out:

"Really? That's your real name? Oh, wow, that's epic!" she squealed, clapping her hands. "You look amazing. You really understood the assignment here, didn't you, Mr. Ghalib Dark?"
 
Kimberly smiled radiantly and gave her dress a few little back-and-forth twirls. "Aw, thanks! That's kind of you to notice! You know, this dress is the cause of all this!" She waved a gold nail-polished finger to indicate the event. "I saw this dress online, and I fell in love, but I didn't buy it because where would I wear it? Other than Halloween. Then, two weeks later, the committee for the decorations is formed, and I said," she paused to giggle excitedly, "Why not a 20's speakeasy? It's so iconic and ironic!"

"History was made that day," Ciara said.

"Right?" Kimberly said, grinning. "Anyway, I got put in charge of planning it since it was my idea, and here we are, and here's this awesome dress and an excuse to wear it! Win-Win!"
 
"Necessity is the mother of invention," Dark replied, taking another look around the party. He was earnest when he told her, "You and your team did a good job. I am fond of the live band, it is a nice touch."
 
"That was Emmet's idea. I wasn't sure that we actually needed it, but," she turned to look, "you're right. It does give it a really nice touch, doesn't it?" She spotted someone across the room and gave a quick wave. "Oh, that's Dave! I need to go touch base with him. The poor guy gets lost in these crowds. Ciara, lovely to see you out of your work clothes, and it was a pleasure to meet your man!" She blew them a kiss and scurried off before Ciara could correct her.

"An energetic woman, but a kind heart, and surprisingly efficient worker," Ciara informed Dark.
 
Dark vaguely raised an eyebrow when the kiss was blown towards him, "She is very nice, and I can trust she does good work." Gesturing around he said, "She clearly does not do things by half. But I do fear you may find yourself with the issue of correcting her regarding the nature of our relationship."
 
"I will not let the misunderstanding stand," Ciara promised him. "I have no interest in being in any sort of relationship other than what we already have." She glanced at him. "No offense meant."
 
"No offense taken, I have no interest in such thing either," Dark replied, quietly amused as he continued to walk the perimeter of the room with her, "I have never yet encountered such a person who moves me more than Daizi, nor do I believe such a person does, or could, exist."
 
"I find that completely understandable," Ciara said, gliding along beside him.

They were partway around the room when a tall, gangly fellow who looked like he could have been in Milo's family tree approach led them. He nodded politely to Dark before addressing Ciara. "Cunningham."

"Driggs," Ciara greeted him with equal formality. "I appreciated your promptness in the Sudash case."

"You're welcome," Driggs said. "Thank you for offering clarity on the Versy case." He paused to glance at Dark. "Clearance?"

"None, but Kimberly will come and scold us if we talk work too long," Ciara said. "Doug Driggs, Ghalib Dark. Ghalib, Doug Driggs."

Driggs held out his hand. "How do you do?"
 
Driggs blinked at Dark through thick, round glasses, his handshake quick and robotic. His thin arms nearly disappeared inside his wide sleeves, and the wide cut trouser legs seemed a little too wide cut. Even so, he was the most accurately dressed of the people they'd met so far. "Doing well, thank you. You are... friends?" He said the word as if it was unusual to say.
 
His eyes widened behind his glasses. "Oh! Yes, of course. You are that Mr. Dark."

"Driggs, if you say it like that, he shall get all sorts of notions," Ciara said.

"Sorry, your name has come up a few times in casual conversation concerning the children. Two boys, yes? And a little daughter?" Driggs asked.
 
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